


Because You'll Always Be Hurt

by igrockspock



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 21:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/igrockspock/pseuds/igrockspock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leo Fitz and Jemma Simmons are different people.  One of them can take a risk, and the other can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because You'll Always Be Hurt

Jemma Simmons almost died.

Actually, if she thinks about it -- which she'd really rather not -- she'd almost died a lot this year. The car accidents and near plane crashes she'd brushed off. "Almosts don't count," her father had said, years ago when she'd driven straight through a red light and they'd nearly been killed by a speeding lorry. At the time, she hadn't listened; she'd pulled off the road in a haze of tears and refused to drive again. The driving license she'd worked so hard to get lay in the back corner of her underwear drawer, where she never saw it but always knew it was there. Somehow, somewhere, she must have absorbed some of her father's philosophy because all those near-death vehicular accidents in the field had seemed like fabulous adventures.

Then there was the day she jumped out of the plane to save the team. She hadn't gotten to think about it for long, really; she'd held onto hope until there wasn't any, and then she had just enough time to resolve to die. Jumping out of the plane was an act and a choice, and she'd felt strong when she jumped. Then she'd been whistling through the air, and she couldn't think about anything even though she'd tried.

Afterward, she'd been a blubbering mess, of course. She thought about what almost happened, and her legs wouldn't hold her up anymore. Talking to her parents was terrifying -- not only because the news would hurt them, but because telling them about it would make her face the fact that she almost died. For weeks, she thought she couldn't do it. And then, suddenly, she could. It wasn't easy, and afterward, it wasn't _fine_ , but her parents survived and so did she. That night, she'd written three letters: one for her parents, one for Leo, and one for the team. She might die next time, but she didn't have to go without saying goodbye.

"Leo," she'd said in the lab next morning, and he turned to her instantly. They only used first names in intimate moments, at the times they weren't joking. "I've written some letters in case -- well, in case there's nobody to jump out of a plane and save me next time. If -- if the time came, you'd make sure they got to the right people?"

Leo looked away from her. He swallowed once and said, "Yeah, of course" in the same diffident tone he'd agree to make her a cup of tea or recalibrate the holo table.

So, actually, if Jemma thinks about it -- and she _is_ thinking now, about every last detail of her life -- she'd had a lot of near-death experiences before she and Leo were drifting in a pod on the bottom of the ocean. But those almost-deaths had been emergencies. Moments she could brood on after the fact, when they'd lost half their power because she'd already survived. The pod was different: there were no actions to take, no heroic sacrifices to make, no choices at all except to find peace with death.

And then Leo had saved them. Or saved her, at least. And that was the moment he chose to tell her that he loved her. She loved him too, of course, but not _that_ way. She might have, once. When they were training at the Academy. Or the years they worked together in the lab, when they were so close it felt like they were one person. Maybe even nine months ago, when he'd followed her into the field. But not now. Not when he'd waited until the last futile moment to confess his feelings. _Because I didn't want anything to change_ , he'd said, but underneath Jemma could hear a different reason: because he didn't want to get hurt. Because he didn't want to take a risk. She'd realized then what she'd probably known for a very long time: she and Leo were different people after all.

The base is dark when Tripp appears at her doorway. They'd spent the day unloading the plane; jet fuel is expensive, and landing clearances for rogue SHIELD jets are hard to come by anyway. They won't be flying anywhere anytime soon. Most of Leo's belongings are in the room she'd set up for him because he _would_ return. She couldn't let herself believe otherwise. At the last minute, she'd taken his fuzzy plaid blanket for her own bed. When Tripp arrives, she's running her fingers through the tassels at the edges, combing them into place.

He leans against the doorway, and they stare at each other, neither knowing what to say. This happens often now, whenever their work is done and the team finds itself at lose ends. Small talk is hard when the world's imploded.

"I'm here for you," he says finally. "In whatever way you need me to be."

Jemma nods. She ought to say _thank you_ , or tell a story about Leo, or admit that she is completely and utterly terrified every waking moment of her day. Instead, she stands up and crosses the room. It's bigger than her bunk on the plane, so her heart is beating fast by the time she's standing in front of Tripp. Later, when his arm is wrapped tight around her waist, and his hand is cupping the back of her head -- and even later, when their bodies are tangled on her tiny bed -- she will remember that she kissed him first. 

Because she can take a chance.

Because she knows love _always_ hurts.

Because _life_ always hurts.

But she'd rather be alive than dead.


End file.
